


Sacrificed

by Xobit



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus is the chosen offering to the violent people of the rust desert, but things are not as they seem...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrificed

It was always an honor to be chosen for something… Optimus supposed he agreed with that statement in principle. It was an honor to be chosen, it was an honor and a joy to be able to do something for your people.

The white city of Iacon had seen many vorns of peace, it had prospered, bloomed with the influx of trade and the sending of items. It had become the heart of the southern trade routes. The great caravans of goods laden wirecamels came once or twice every groon, heavily guarded by mechs riding the swift giant electrolizards of the desert. 

The white city, the city of light.

The heart of the waste, the jewel of the rust desert. 

But the price of this title, the price of peace was a harsh one. Deep in the waste, the rust desert… the Land of Red Death dwelled a tribe of, well no one really knew of what. They came once every vorn and claimed their tax from Iacon. 

The trade city paid it with nary a flicker of the optic. 

The dwellers of the Land of Red Death did not ask for credits, nor for jewels or other valuable goods. They didn’t want spices, alkool or energon. They did not take anything offered them but the one thing they had come for. 

A mech. 

Young, pretty, untouched. 

If the mech offered them wasn’t those things, all of those things, they would find one themselves. If the mech was attempted ‘saved’ they would respond with brutal, devastating force. Most of the strangers were twice as big as any Iaconian guard, some where even bigger. Those attempts at cheating lay far back in the history of the white city, remembered with fear and glee but the mistakes never forgotten nor repeated. 

As time went by the toll was paid. Sometimes with slaves, sometimes with young ones from the city, young ones who had no Creators. 

There was a carelessness towards individual life in this that Optimus had always known, but never really thought about. He had been too young, too happy with his Creators protection and care. Too shielded to understand that those chosen, those white shrouded younglings that were brought though the cheering crowds of Iaconains where seldom there by choice. 

He understood now. 

His Creators had died in an accident. That had been terrible enough, to experience such a loss. But he was too young to take over, knew too little and his Carrier’s brother had moved in… Optimus had been all too happy for the help. 

It had taken nearly four vorns before the manipulations of his Carrier’s brother to show true. He was a cleaver mech, a dangerous mech… he wanted political power and riches. And he had been very willing to provide the needed sacrifice when the slave bought for it showed not to be the virgin he had been bought as. 

Quite possibly he had even been the one making sure the slave was no virgin. Possibly not physically but very possibly though machinations and scheming. 

Of course Optimus had more or less offered himself up. But that too was part of the bigger plan. He wasn’t stupid, just naïve… had been at least, maybe not anymore. You learned from being hurt, or so they said. ‘Once burned, twice shy’. 

He had certainly been burned and he would never trust anyone again. His own family… Ultra Magnus. The so trusted uncle, he had leaned on him and sought solace from him and all he had gained was a betrayal so great he could barely comprehend it. 

They had taken him to the temple of light, the realm of Primus, there they had cleaned him up, waxed him and clad him in white fabric. A long loin cloth that was more like a skirt then any loin cloth he had ever worn before, and a robe that split all the way down the front and from his hips to his pedes on both sides. It was tied with silver chain, and he had the same fine silver chain around his neck, his wrist and his ankle joints.

A beautifully wrapped present for the beasts of the Land of Red Death. 

Biting his lower derma he attempted to move again and found the same heavy lethargy keeping his chassis still. They had given him a cube of energon and he had drunk it, too numb with shock to even suspect further betrayal. They had laced it with something that made him feel floaty and then paralyzed him.

He didn’t feel floaty anymore, rather he felt far too sensitized to all things around him. The roar of the crowd and the street sellers. The sun that beat down on him, the dust that filled the air. Everything seemed too much but he couldn’t escape it, the colors were too bright but he couldn’t shutter his optics or even turn them off or down. Nothing worked! He was like a statue that could do nothing but smile serenely and let it all happen.

Of course he was panicking a plenty internally. He was no better off than the sacrificial creatures that were brought to the shady temple of Unicron to have their energon lines cut and their energon spilled at the dark god’s pedes! 

Onwards he was carried towards the city gates, though them and into the bazaar for the trade caravans and then past that colorful place to the cliffs that marked the edge of what territory the white city could call its own. 

There he was ‘helped’ out of the litter and up on the lowest of the tall jaggered cliffs so that the litter carriers could chain him to it with chains far tougher then the delicate silver ones used for decoration… No chance was taken that an unwilling sacrifice might run away, or that a willing one might change his processor. 

As if the drug was not enough. Optimus literally hang in his chains as he was left there, unable to support his own chassis. 

So yes, in principle he did believe it was an honor and a joy to help one’s people.

* * *

It was not long before Optimus had lost all track of time, the drug used on him made him dizzy and sick. Hadeen beat down on him like a hammer of holy vengeance… but he did not know what he might have done to anger Primus or Unicron. 

Maybe the supreme bonded ones were angry that he had survived his Creators? But why then wait so long with punishment? And why punish at all for something he had been unable to hinder… too far away to do anything but laugh and play as he had always done in the evenings. Oblivious as to how his life was about to change. 

And now it was changing again. 

At first he thought he might be hallucinating, burning up under the unforgiving sun. A nightmare made real… 

Who didn’t fear the mysterious, monstrous, beastlike dwellers of the deep rust desert? It was called the Land of Red Death for a reason. How anything could survive there was a true mystery. And the stories about what the ones that did live there looked like… 

So the figures moving towards him inspired nothing but terror, and in his weakened state it was enough to make him wail thinly. 

Optimus was young, barely the age of one ready for bonding… he had lived a sheltered life and saw it fall to ruined and dust around him in just a few vorns. There was no strength left and when a large black hand was stretched out towards him he spiraled into the unnatural darkness of a system wide forced shut down.

* * *

“Drink.” It was an order and Optimus followed it, he had done so many times before. 

Glimpses of memories, kaleidoscopic thoughts and fears and that deep voice ordering him to drink. Sometimes coolant, sometimes energon. On occasion energon so heavily laced with additives that it flowed as thick as the sweet energon he had once loved to beg his Creators for. 

He knew he should be afraid but it was hard to be so when he could not remember why. And the voice inspired such calm in him… it was deep and velvety, rather like the voice of an official that his Creators had known privately. Just… better. 

This voice said such nice things to him. 

“There… good, lovely one.” Things like that! Compliments, the tone almost crooning, caressing in nature. Not at all superior or servile, nor sleek or dripping false sincerity. It was just… attractive. 

He pushed feebly at the hand holding the cube of coolant against his dermas until it was withdrawn.

“T-thank you, I can’t take anymore.” The sound of his own voice shocked him, this was the most lucid he had been in what seemed to be orns and his vocalizer crackled unpleasantly with disuse.

“Would you like fuel instead?” He nodded jerkily, swallowing and licking his dermas, uncomfortable about trying to talk again. A deep chuckle greeted his nod, a sound that seemed to travel up and down his spinal struts and warm him from the inside out. He could certainly feel his cheek plating burn and tried to speak, only to have a very large finger pressed against his dermas.

“Don’t, you nearly ruined your vocalizer, lovely one. It needs more time to heal, Hook is sure it will recover just as the rest of you will but we had to keep you sedated for the entire trip to the Oasis.” Even half drowning in the pleasure of listening to that voice Optimus realized that the term ‘oasis’ was used as a name, it had a finality to it that he had never heard before. Attempting to online his optics he realized that something covered them up. Gauze? He reached up to pull it off and was stopped again.

“If you keep squirming I will have trouble feeding you. And I don’t want you to panic again, that is why you are wearing a blindfold. We can take it off after you have fueled, yes?” Optimus grimaced, which earned him another brief chuckle, and subsided. He had a feeling his caretaker could easily enforce what was now a mere suggestion.

The energon he was fed was rich and pure, unlike any energon he had tasted before. Not at all thick but still very filling and carrying the taste of supplements and additives but none of the grittiness they normally caused. 

“It is not so bad here, lovely one, though it is nothing like the life you once had.” Optimus wished that his caretaker hadn’t reminded him of where he had to be. The Land of Red Death… 

Pushing the hand with the cube away he struggled upright and started to tug the blind fold off. Large hands pushed his own away and removed it for him. The vision revealed wasn’t frightening at all, he was apparently in a wall less berth chamber, at least missing one wall though there were mesh fabric fastened to the one column he saw right away. Outside that the ground was covered in crysgrass and larger crystals, a path was cut though it paved with what looked like metal and leading to a fountain that seemed to…

“Is that energon?” He had heard about it… who hadn’t? The fabled springs of Primus, the free flowing energon springs that tasted like what the supreme bonded ones themselves drank. 

“Yes… you are at the Oasis now, lovely one.” Optimus automatically turned to look at the mech with the velvety voice and almost fell off the berth as he scooted away. His caretaker sighed and looked a little put upon but it was hard to control the panic, the mech was so, so _huge_!

“Please, do not panic again… Hook will soon think me unsuitable for you!” There was a teasing note in the voice but the mech still seemed completely serious. Who was ‘Hook’? Optimus shuttered his optics for a long moment and vented softly, it wouldn’t help to panic even if the mech was a giant. He was at the very least a handsome giant… in a very exotic way. 

“You should rest! I will be back soon. We can talk more then, if your vocalizer is better.” When was soon? Optimus didn’t attempt asking but sat there on the berth looking a little forlornly after his caretaker, wondering at all the questions he had. 

He did not feel like recharging, nor like getting off the berth on his own, it fit more to his caretaker’s size then to his. Looking about himself he found that only one wall was made from the metal laced stone of the Red Desert, the others were like the first he had seen mesh fabric tied to beautifully carved columns. 

The two walls were closed off and he couldn’t even see shadows though it, which meant that the mesh was thick enough to withstand the Khamsin and maybe even a rust storm. The room still puzzled him since it was clearly a berth chamber… a private berth chamber. What was he doing in some stranger’s berth chamber? Didn’t they… 

But then who was he to judge them? He had thought them monsters and they were clearly not that. He was not at all sure what to call them to be honest, his caretaker seemed nice if a little scary with his spiky armor and size… a bit too cryptic but there might be an answer for that too. Optimus knew he hadn’t asked anything much so he could hardly blame the mech for not explaining. 

It would be nice if he could walk over and look at the fountain, verify that it really was energon that flowed through it. It sounded… too mythical to be true. 

And again, Optimus knew he should be worrying over himself right now and not about myths and miracles. But it was easier to let himself become distracted, so much easier then admitting that he was in an unknown place among unknown mechs. What future did he have here? 

Gathering the thin material of the thermal blanket to his chest he looked about himself with fear in his optics. 

The place was wholly strange to him, even those things he could guess at or knew somewhat seemed impossibly big and were strangely colored in patterns he wasn’t used to. He was alone among what appeared to be giants with an uncertain future ahead of him. Hiding under the thermal blanket was starting to look awfully tempting. 

Eventually he dosed off, not even sure how long it had taken him to do so.

* * *

“Wake up, young one.” The voice was also deep and warm but it was not the voice of his caretaker. This one also seemed familiar somehow and held a note of fondness that seemed directed at him. He could not fathom why anyone not his Creators would care for him… so far no one had. 

“Don’t try and fake recharge, I am a shaman I know how to spot such a thing.” Optimus reluctantly onlined his optics and unshuttered them. And promptly had to clamp down on his panicky venting and the urge to scuttle back. The new mech was not as large as his caretaker but he was still big, and his armor was just as spiky. The purple and green swirls on black made Optimus shutter and unshutter his optics a few times all on their own. 

“Megatron was right it seems, you are calming down.” The mech smiled sharply and drew back to settle on the edge of the berth. Optimus could feel himself relaxing and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. 

“You should be able to talk now, your voice will be rough for a few orns but nothing like when you first woke. Now, I have to ask you a few things… do try to be honest in your answers?” The stranger lifted an optical ridge at him and he nodded cautiously.

“What were you… in the city?” The question seemed oddly flat, as if Hook had to modulate most of his feelings out of it. Optimus bit his lower derma nervously but decided that the truth was better than any subterfuge he would have been able to think up in an instant. 

“I was the Creation of a happily bonded pair of lower noble merchants. They recently died in an accident… I um… my Carrier’s… brother…” He grinded to a halt, feeling fear and sadness choking him up. Usually the sacrifice was a slave or a mech with no family… 

“Ah… well, youngling, you are not the only one to come with us with such a story. Do not worry, there will be no anger directed at you for being what you are!” The shaman crooked a smile at his astonished expression. 

“Yes, there have been slaves among those offered to us, but it is too hard for the city to get virgin slaves… too hard to get younglings with no family that haven’t had to sort to selling themselves to live...” Shaking his head he looked both angry and sad.

“Instead this has become a convenient way of getting rid of undesirable heirs and such mechs that would not benefit the current rulers of the city. The ones that were not pure were disposed of in even less nice ways.” Optimus could feel his dermas tremble, for some reason he did not doubt this mech and the truth hurt… it hurt more than the personal betrayal that had been done to him.

“I am sorry, youngling, we have found that telling things out right is better for most of the new arrivals. I suppose you too were told that we are monsters, who demanded sacrifices to keep the City safe from our terrible wrath?” Optimus nodded and the shaman huffed heavily though his vents a bitter smile on his dermas. 

“My tribe, Megatron’s tribe, is far older then the City… maybe even older then the civilization that build the City, which wasn’t yours by the by, yours just found it. We’ve always lived here at the Oasis, protected it from those that would use the gift for warfare or in other devious manners. When your people settled the ruins of the City we approached them to see who and how they were and found them to be… unpromising. Apart from a few young mechs that were not happy there.” The shaman paused and looked at him. Optimus shook his head uncertainly not sure what the other was waiting for. 

“Ah well… not long after we left the settlers behind we sent a patrol back and found that another youngling had been tied to the marker cliffs. Just like you… when he had been nursed back to health he told us he was a sacrifice to keep us from attacking. This happened many, many vorns ago. My predecessors tried to reason with the City’s rulers but nothing happened and the sacrifices continued irregularly. Soon though a rhythm was established, one virgin mech each vorn.”

“And it’s that way still… now.” Optimus croaked out, dermas trembling from confused emotions. He had loved his home, the white city of Iacon, but now he was told it was a lie, build on a lie and on ruthlessness.

“Yes. In all fairness we do believe it is the rulers, or the ruling elite, of the City that are using this as means to control the citizens. That is a very small collection of mechs, youngling…” Huffing again the bigger mech looked off to the fountain, as if collecting himself. Optimus almost wished he would stop talking… and yet he understood. Honesty. He had had very little of that in his life after his Creators offlined…

“Here? What will happen to me?” His voice sounded better now, but still staticky and stressed. 

“Ah… fair enough. You are unattached and of age to be mated. Our tradition is fairly to the norm of yours when it comes to courting but you, and the others from the City, pose a certain problem. You are all very beautiful, and most often very fertile.” The shaman paused and lifted an optical ridge in question. Shaking his head he lifted a hand to urge the mech on, he wasn’t sure he could have spoke, dread settling heavily in his spark.

“Hm… you have been given to a mech, he will be your caretaker for ten groon and will be allowed to court you in that time too. If he proves to be unfit for you another mech will take his place. Do not worry, there are strict rules to this! Nothing will be done that you do not allow, understand?” 

“Yes… but I will have no choice apart from… from mating?” Optimus wished he could say honestly that he didn’t want a mate. But he did, a mate, a little one… more than one if possible. He wanted the happiness his Creators had had. Still the way this would be done seemed so unfair? Or maybe it was just the strangeness of it all. 

“If no one appeals to you? You will not be forced to mate if that is what you mean, youngling. But we can’t have you causing fights… that is what happens if we don’t do the courting like this.” The shaman shrugged a little, sympathy on his strange face plates. 

“Megatron will be good to you, luck of the draw for him to have first chance at you… Please give him a chance? Most of your kin treat him like he will hurt them if he so much as look at them… even after they have lived here for vorns.” There was some expiration in the voice but also something that Optimus cautiously labeled begging. Oh… wait? 

“M-Megatron is your leader? When will I meet him?” Optimus didn’t feel like he could handle meeting any more mechs and certainly not the leader of the ‘Oasis’, which he still did not know what was. 

“You have met him, youngling, he’s been taking care of you while you recovered.” The shaman quirked a smile though he also seemed a little annoyed. 

“He did not introduce himself I gather, then again he did tell me you panicked again… I will get him, you need fuel and I have other duties to attempt to. None as pleasant as this though.” The large mech reached out to cup Optimus chin for a moment. 

“You are a pretty one, almost as petty as my own mate. Give him a real chance, youngling, it will be worth it if you let it work.” With that the shaman got up and left, leaving Optimus to feel even more shaken and confused then before.

* * *

Megatron was painfully polite. 

That was the opinion that Optimus had manage to form in the orns after his conversation with the shaman. And he did mean _painfully_ polite, more polite than any noble had ever been to him while he lived in the white city. It also became increasingly clear that the politeness had root in fear. Megatron was utterly terrified of causing him to panic or causing him harm in any way, manner or form. 

It was sweet really, in a daunting sort of way considering how very big and powerful the mech was. And he was powerful both in sheer physical strength but also in what one could deem political power here in the Oasis. He was no figure head. Rather he was a real leader, a hard and yet kind one. 

The Oasis was a true paradise! As soon as Hook pronounced him recovered enough Megatron began taking him to see the place and the mechs who called it their home. 

Most of them were big and spiky but there were small smooth mechs like himself among them. Other sacrifices, or the Creations of unions between the Oasis people and the sacrifices. That was a sobering thought to him…

He really was expected to mate one of them! Have Creations and raise them here where energon flowed freely out of the ground and Corax crystals thrived all on their own with no mech to care for them. The thought was not nearly as abhorrent as it could have been.

What he really wanted to know though was how could he give Megatron a chance when the mech was nothing but polite and careful and plain… did not seem interested? He wasn’t sure he was reading him right but that was what it felt like. 

And it kept on feeling like that until they were to be separated and he was to be passed on to another suitor. Ten groons had seemed like such a very long time when Hook told him of the time frame but as they drew to a close he realized that it was a very short time indeed. Especially when the mech he was supposed to ‘give a chance’ acted as if he was a piece of breakable crystal and only spoke to him to ensure he had all that was needed. 

Oh that was not fair! Megatron was a great conversationalist but that was about all… he never seemed willing to go to something intimate. Topic wise or touch wise, freezing up and then leaving if Optimus so much as hinted at it. Always extremely politely of course. 

It was most frustrating because he wanted to give him the requested chance. Gradually over the orns he became used to the size and unafraid as he saw the care and gentleness that the mech was able to provide. A care and gentleness he remembered from his time as a youngling, from the loving hands and voices of his own Creators. 

But he was given nothing to work with and now he was being handed over to another mech. This one large, still smaller then Megatron though, and black with swirls of gold and silvery dusty looking paint all over his limbs. He looked… nice enough he supposed, in that eager manner all the unattached Oasis mechs had when they encountered him. 

Blackout. 

And a small symbiotic creature called Scorponok. That one was quite cute and Optimus became fast friends with it in the orns that followed his being handed over. 

He did try to seek out the sharman and talk with him about the dilemma he was in a few orns after the handover but was told that Megatron, the shaman and a large number of warriors had gone into the desert for some none specified reason. 

If Optimus had thought himself a little more important he would have been suspicious that the tribe leader was running away. But he was not that important was he? Likely Megatron had not felt he was worth the effort… 

Despite his sweet compliments and gentle care he’d obviously not felt any of the deeper connection that Optimus had started to feel. But perhaps he was just fooling himself? Perhaps his own feelings were merely those of someone in need of someone to love… Taking root in the idea of the first mech kind to him?

* * *

“Please s-stop.” The whimper was heeded immediately, his dark colored suitor pulling away with a concerned expression on his face plates and an unhappy frown on his dermas. 

“What is it? I thought you wanted this?” Optimus knew that he had asked for it, if not with words then with how he had acted. It made him feel guilty and sad, but this was what he was expected to do, right? Mate and have littles for the tribe of the Oasis? 

“I just…” He halted, unable to raise his optics and look at Blackout.

“You don’t feel that way for me. I know that, I don’t understand why you try and pretend but I have been willing to play along…” The tone the rotary mech had taken implied he was no longer quite as willing to ‘play along’. He could not blame him, it was toying with them both really. 

“…” Optimus shook his head and fought to hold back a sob only to fail a moment later and be picked up bodily by the big black mech.

“It’s Megatron, is it not?” He nodded, faceplates hidden against the other’s armor. 

“I knew it, I cannot even complain about his luck… he’s been waiting long enough while others have found mates.” But there was still a note of envy in the rotary’s voice that Optimus had a hard time digesting. Why was he all of a sudden so attractive? 

“I’ll get you in to see Megatron.” Jerking he finally pulled away to look up at Blackout and was met with a sheepish and slightly guilty expression. 

“He’s been home for the last couple of orns… I wanted to tell you but you seemed so adamant on pushing yourself at me…” He had been, Optimus flushed hotly and giggled a little, not really feeling angry with the black mech. How could he? It was the utter truth he had been throwing himself at Blackout in an attempt to forget that he had spent ten useless groons with a mech that hadn’t wanted to give _him_ a chance. 

“You sure don’t talk much when you are embarrassed.” The rotary had a deep rumbling laugh that made his rotor blades bounce. Before he could gather himself to answer the mech had started to walk, shifting him easily so that he was lying in his arms. It was just a little bit undignified and a whole lot more intimate that he was rightly comfortable with but it wasn’t like he could do much about it. 

Blackout strove though what was the center of the Oasis, right past the largest of the energon springs and over one of the small run offs from it and all the mechs gathered there. Optimus felt even more embaressed then before but his semi humiliation was in now way done. 

The rotary continued strait into the great building that served the tribe as a meeting place and feast hall and right through the crowd that was gatered there, up to Megatron and dumped him in the tribe leader’s lap. 

“This one is yours, sir, I think you had better make something of it or you will have a couple of very unhappy mechs on your hands soon.” Optimus yelped and hid his head in his hands. Oh supreme bonded ones! What had he done to deserve such humiliation? 

He did not get to hide for long, well known and gentle hands tugged at his wrists persuading him to stop hiding. 

“Is it true, lovely one?” Megatron looked so very serious, too serious and not at all happy with that frown marring his thin dermas. 

“Are you mine?” He could have lied, maybe he even would have if the second question hadn’t been asked. Instead he nodded jerkily and bit his lower derma, optics down cast as he waited for the negative reaction. 

It was not long in coming but it was not negative. Unless being kissed to within an inch of his life was negative. He did not even hear the wolf whistles or the shaman yelling at everyone to get out and ‘give them privacy’. Optimus was far too busy latching on to the broad shoulder plates and kiss back. Something he wasn’t too good at but Megatron let him try nevertheless. 

“I’m sorry.” Optimus unshuttered his opticks and looked questioningly at Megatron.

“I shouldn’t have let you go, but I couldn’t… you kept looking at me with fear?” Oh… so that was why he hadn’t pressed anything? He _had_ thought that Optimus was afraid of him!

“I wasn’t afraid… just fearful? I didn’t know… I mean, and I didn’t, don’t really understand what I am feeling?” Optimus couldn’t help the warm flush or the confused mumbling. 

“What are you feeling?” The rumble had lowered a little, it seemed oddly dangerous in a way that made shivers skitter up and down his spinal struts. 

“W-warm, hot? And my… um, tight… down there.” Optimus indicated his panel with an awkward movement, “Shaky and unsure… l-longing?” 

“Desire…” The word was almost nothing but deep vibrations, more felt then heard as he was pulled into another kiss, this time dominating and hungry. 

Yes, he did feel desire but it was far more than that and he had no words for it at all! Megatron had made him able to trust all over again even though he had been sure he would never trust another mech after what Ultra Magnus had done. 

He didn’t know how he had done it, he just knew he had or he would have never dared nod when Blackout had asked if it was Megatron he wanted. 

“I can work with that.” The rumble continued as Megatron’s mouth moved from throat down to his chin and onto his neck cables. 

‘work with it?’ Optimus couldn’t gather enough wits to care, moaning freely and eagerly. He wouldn’t protest this, after all he had decided! He was to bond and he wanted it to be with Megatron… it didn’t matter to him who he was, only that he was caring and gentle and maybe would be able to find it in himself to love his sacrificial mate one day… 

“Primus only knew… you taste so good, lovely one.” Abruptly Megatron got up, carrying him like Blackout had, this time Optimus only resented loosing the warm dermas on him, out of the building and towards the place he had first thought off as home here. It was barely twenty strides away and Megatron fairly tossed him onto the large berth, following onto it and following up his ‘attack’ on Optimus’ untouched chassis.

Soon enough he had the virgin mech’s panel open and his large glossa deep inside the untried valve. Optimus was withering and mewling, hands restlessly moving on Megatron’s helmet unsure if he should push the mech away or pull him closer still. It was all happening so fast! And yet he liked it, he did not want it to stop… 

“Let me have you? Please, little one…” Weakly lifting his head he met the intense stare from the desert dweller’s red optics. There was burning desire in them… he could barely understand having such a thing directed at him. 

“Y-yes.” As soon as the soft word had left him the giant mech moved over him, far faster then he should by all rights have been able to move. Dermas crashed down upon his own and he was gone in sensation before he could process what had happened. 

Burning pain broke though a moment later, but as soon as he cried out the large black hands of his lover moved over his armor, soothing away the strange pain. 

“Shh… it will only be a moment, I did not think!” Megatron’s voice was full of guilt and chagrin, but also still choked with desire. There was no stopping, honestly… Optimus did not want them to stop, he needed this! 

“Don’t stop?” Mewling he nibbled on the larger mech’s lower derma, shifting restlessly. He could feel the other in him… it still hurt a little but not nearly as much as it had and he wanted to get past the pain. He had been told there would be pain, though he doubted that his tutors had though he would loose his membrane like this. 

“A moment, I hurt you!” Optimus mewled again and stubbornly dug his heels into the back of the larger mech’s legs.

“The pain will pass!” It would, he could already feel pleasure taking over even from the ache he was still feeling. Megatron’s hands were working little wonders on his chassis and he wanted all of it! 

“Impatient…”But some of the guilt had leeched out and that was his real goal. Optimus cried when Megatron moved again but this time it was not in pain. It was still uncomfortable but there was so much pleasure too. So many feelings he didn’t know how to name and that he wanted more of. 

“All of you, lovely one, all of you!” He knew that was meant and did not hesitate in giving it up. Megatron lifted him off the berth, almost crouching over him so that they were able to bring their chests together. Awkward but worth it… 

Loneliness was the feeling Megatron had lived with for the longest time. He had been happy but alone, he had looked among his own and among those that were given but no one had clicked with him and the latter had feared him like he was a carrier of the rust plague. 

Optimus brought an end to the loneliness and his own happy memories. And the memory of a betray so deep he thought his spark might never heal. 

It had healed 

And now it was made whole.

* * *

“Roddy! No! Let go of that!” The cry made several mechs look up from their tasks as a small yellow mech ran over the open space between the central fountain and the meeting hall. 

“Little brother, you never listen do you?” The yellow mech picked up his brightly colored brother and snorted when the red and orange mech squirmed and tried to reach back down for the woven basket. 

“It is fine.” The yellow mech looked up, and then further up, blue optics widening comically as they met humor filled red ones. 

“Galvatron, are you coming?” 

“Yes, Carrier.” Leaning forward the purple mech took the basket, slipped his hand inside and gave the small yellow mech a handful of goodies. 

“Enjoy them, and remember to share with your brother… he is going to grow up to be a real spark breaker if he takes after you!” Bumblebee smiled nervously after the heir to the tribe, watching as he joined his carrier, who was visibly carrying again and holding Galvatron’s youngest, for now, brother in his arms. Megatron’s booming laughter filled the air a moment later and the purple youngling received a clap on his broad shoulder plating.

Bumblebee watched the family walk away with something like awe on his face plates. He got brought back tyo reality when his brother demanded a ‘canny’ now! 

“Did you hear that, Roddy? Galvatron likes you, let’s go tell Carrier.” Giving his little brother a goodie he turned away to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta   
> AKzeal


End file.
